A GHOST STORY
Photo from Unsplash.
The family whose leaving made room for me
left a mirror hanging in the hallway.
Nailed too high to use, I can only see
the crown of my head.
The remains of the chalk
art on the patio
whisper the rain-washed dreams
of two young minds.
The dust lines on the mantle
hold the impression of their most-loved pictures.
Placing the marks of my own life
above the coals seems sacrilegious.
Will they return one night
to retrace their lives
and instead find a stranger
asleep in their bed
and unfamiliar faces
watching from the walls?
